I’m more than just my body.

This is my affirmation for today.  Similar affirmations have included: 

I don’t have to be thin; I’m more than my appearance; I’m allowed to take up space; and, I’m more than numbers on a scale.

Affirmations are easy to say, hard to believe, and nearly impossible for me to live. Buy-in is challenging when you have decades of accepting the opposite.

I’m more than just my body. Why is it so easy to believe my internal critic’s contentions to the contrary?

I’m a kind person. I’m accepting. I’m a good friend and a good mother. I’m reasonably intelligent and have a satisfactory number of accomplishments.  Unfortunately, these truths and others are rendered irrelevant if my pants feel too tight or the reflection in the mirror doesn’t display obvious bones.

Well-meaning friends and family offer encouragements. Affirmations to-go. They list my accomplishments and throw compliments my way. It doesn’t help all that much. It’s kind and flattering but I don’t believe a word they say. It’s hard to stand against the inside voice which is convincingly familiar about the opposite. It’s hard to believe good things.

They don’t feel like mine, the compliments. I don’t feel them in my bones. I don’t believe them in my guts. The kind words are washed away by my belief that nothing I do has value or worth if my body is imperfect. Perfect being skeletal to a level I’ve yet to achieve: no matter the number, the eating disorder’s response is “not yet”. Perhaps dead and decomposing?

I’m more than my body. I’m more than my bones. I’m more than a meat suit stumbling haphazardly through life. I have value beyond my outline and I will repeat my affirmations ad nauseum until the reflection in the mirror doesn’t inspire me to double-check my measurements. Until I believe the affirmations I struggle to say. Until I’m no longer utterly consumed with self-criticism.

Until I really am more than just my body.

photo credit: post it therapy